


Outdated

by Escritora2Aliasfox



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-16 15:18:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 11,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9277742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Escritora2Aliasfox/pseuds/Escritora2Aliasfox
Summary: Aziraphale gets into trouble, and Crowley has to help him.He just doesnt realices how far he's going in roder to do so, until is kind of late.





	1. Need to get drunk again

**Author's Note:**

> This will be short (specially each chapter) and not too dark. I hope you like it!

Hell and heaven where outdated. Crowley knew, Aziraphale knew and some humans knew as well even thou they had nothing to do with it!  
Earth itself was supposed to be outdated. There was supposed to be an end of the world and it hadn’t happen. Something should be done, right?

Well, it wasn’t. Call it slow managment, or burocracy, or just a damn outdated sistem wich was not meant to keep working, damnit!

The case is, something had to be done. And some, not many, but still powerfull blamed him.

Who? Well, the angel who was in charge, of course. The one who was placed on earth with the simple one job of keeping heaven informed and still did it wrong! The one who had not only not participated in the last war, but against orders, Aziraphale!

He had gone too far, by Michael’s standars. He called him and… got no answer.  
What?  
Nevermind that! he sent two angels to fetch him and bring him back heaven for questioning… and they found the place empty.  
What!?

-do you think he knew we where coming, and flew to hide?  
-that is improbablable, how did he knew? Where could he go? Why hide? If he has something to be ashamed of he shall fall anyways, right?

The other angel thoug for a moment and felt confused. He gave the usual answer:

-don’t question inefability.

They did not dare to just go back empty handed, at least they should be able to say they tried theyr best, so they searched around the place the angel usually inhabitated for any clues. Two hours later the door opened and in came the angel they where looking for…and a demon. Drunk like…well, drunk humans! And holding each other while gigling. In such a state they were, they took some sweet time to realice they where not alone.

They where being stared at, by two angels. Of Michael’s division.  
Crowley was drunk but still sober enough to know what to do: he banished, letting the book-lover angel fall unceremoniously onto the floor.

The other two just kept staring. What to do? Bring him in this… state back to Michael?

Lucky for them, tethere was no need to think of that, as Aziraphale sobered up as fast as he could, and rised with a noble expresion (as noble as you can after such loss of digninty)

-may i ask what i own the onor to…?  
-may you ask? We are here to question you! What on the name of the lord where you doing with that demon?  
-uh…  
-actually- the other angel was too confuse to treat the issue* -we are not here to question you: we came to escort you to heaven, where Michael awaits to question you.

Aziraphale was shocked, and thoug of something to say at least to get more time.

-abouth what?  
-abouth the apocalypse that wasn’t, and your rol on it.

Aziraphale took the quiquest rute he knew: he was smart, and he knew angels**

-are you questioning inefability?  
-no, we…  
-my role in the apocalipse was the one i was meant to, and it wouldn’t have ended the way it did if it was not for His will, like everything else is.  
-so, are you saying He…?  
-and!-Aziraphale wouldn’t risk loosing the chance he had goten with this little shoot ofconfidence- If Michael questions His will or my job that is not my problem for i do not velong in his division. So you should be questioning someone else!

The two angels had no experience discussing this matters*** and Aziraphale was making sure to seem quite ofended (when he was, in truth, terrified) the most persistent of them rebated.

-but you where confraternizing with a demon! We saw you!  
-if you are going to have the nerve to also question my ways of persuasion and research of information, then maybe you should go to present an oficial request of my job results-he took a breath of air- from my division’s superior!

The three of them stood quiet, thinking of the next move (and wether or not it had work) and then, the persistent one spoke.

-very well. We will…do just that.  
-what?- the one who wanted the job done complained.  
-go inform Michael and request a proper questioning from the proper responsible, come on.  
-oh…heavens!

And so, they left. And as fast as they left, Aziraphale sunk to the ground. He did it while he reached outh for a chair, and miracled a bottle of wine and a glass… or two. He needed to speak with Crowley****

* and he just wanted to get the job done.  
** and he also counted with Crowley’s influence. (not bad, nor good, just usefull)  
*** they where of Michael’s division: they only had expirience fighting, smitting, and following orders. Not so much for discussion.  
**** he just needed to speak with someone, but Crowley was the only one he could speak to abouth this.


	2. On favour, and against

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and aziraphale discuss the matter ahead, and consider theyr options

Crowley walked in circles around his flat. He had sober up as soon as he could in case the angel called him, and indeed he did, seeming very upset.

He had poured himself some wine and he didn’t drink a drop untill the demon told him to do so, as it would help. Up from there the angel started getting drunk so fast Crowley had trouble to understand the problem: he had had news from heaven. Michael, (the brute one in the family) wanted to question him abouth the apocalypse that wasn’t, and only out of cheap excuses had he managed to scape the situation.

Crowley didn’t know what to do, so he drank some wine too, and calmed the angel down. “do not worry” he said “it will take them some time to go throu all of the paperwork before they can come back” he said, but truth is, as soon as they were throu all of the paperwork, they would be back.

“Lets calm down and think, ok?”   
The angel’s words slurred when he answered “yeeszz” You got plenty of time to sober up, think of a list of the possible acusation they may have planned for you, and then a list of all the propper answers for it. You got your books…  
“i dun think Peter pan Is gonna halp me out off dis one…”

Right. Crowley had forgotten: Aziraphale’s books where no loger old and peculiar bibles. “nevermind” he rebated “you should have memorized the important stuff by now”  
“all of the stuff, actually…” Crowley rolled his eyes. “look, we will talk tomorrow, ok, when you are a little more fresh.

And with that he left, and Aziraphale felt a little bit lonely…

Now, walking in circles on his flat didn’t have anything to do with the angel, right? It was a personal thing, it was abouth his job, not the angel’s, right?

Should he inform his side of what was happening?

Ok, a list of facts on favour:

-he still belonged to his side.  
-enough had he done alredy to get into trouble.  
-of course he had to tell them: if there was starting to be movement in heaven they would want to know… they would eventually find out, and if they knew he knew and didn’t say…  
-it was part of the agreement, right? The angel wouldn’t mind. He would have enough to worry abouth on his own…

Well. Now, a list of facts against:

-after what happened with the apocalipse, and given he had messed big time to the point of being persecuted and killing a superior, he could consider himself fired.  
-he hadn’t have any news from hell, so he was, indeed, probably fired.  
-if he choosed to call them, for any reason, they may remember abouth him, and come back for him*  
-This felt like something personal, so it didn’t really have anything to do with his job.  
Right?

 

*And that would be absolutly against his survival nature, wich was very strong, so he couldn’t be blamed.


	3. Aziraphale's answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale can not scape Michael's questioning

Aziraphale and Crowley didn’t have the chance to meet again to discuss the matter:

Michael didn’t go throu any paperwork.   
His mesengers had come back to him not only empty handed, but with a lot of confused excuses. He had rebated he didn’t need anyone’s permision to question the shameless principality, and appeared at his place as soon as he placed: when Aziraphale was still deciding if he should sober up already or enjoy being drunk a bit more to go trhou the worry.

Michael felt nearly disgusted by the smell of alchool, wich was strong for someone who wasn’t used to it, but he still held the angel up from his clothes.

“What was that lot of excuses you told my messengers?” “i…ah… see…” it was difficult to speak with such level of alchool in blood. Aziraphale tried to sober up, but it was hard with the other angel shaking him abobe the floor.

“what were you atempting to do during the apocalipse? And what where you doing with that demon tonight?”

Aziraphale raised a finger, triying to say something, but he suddenly felt very sick, and then, one of the most terrifying and shaming things in his long existence happened, and it happened out of his mouth, and into Michael’s robes.

If he ever survived this, it would be funny later.

Michael squeackued* and let go of him. He fell unceremoniously onto the floor, and at least had some seconds to concentrate on sobering up.

“Pardon me for that!” he exused himself as fast as he could, but Michael wasn’t listening. He was looking at his robes. He had tried to get some puke out with a hand, and made it worst. He seemed to feel deliveratedly atacked, so Aziraphale got rid of all the proof with a wave of hand. “i asure you that was not in purpose…”  
“what was it then?!” “eh, a result of your violent way of saying hello, actually. See, living on earth, you…” it was like arguing with a tiger. Michael was soon pining him against the wall a ferocious expresion on his face.

“Answer. My. Questions”

Aziraphale thoug of the best answers as fast as he could. ‘think like Crowley’ he told himself. Lets see, the first question…

“i… I told you messengers i was not of your division, so if you had any request, you should go to my superior…” the grip ightened and he hurried on finishing “it was just the most polite, er… propper way to do so. You see, this, is a bit old fashioned… there’s paperwork…” “i am old from the old school”**  
“yes, of course but… My superiors…” “Just. Answer. Me.” “ok, ok….”

What was the next question? Oh, right…

“during the…ah…apocalipse…” “that wasn’t” Michael seemed piss abouth that.  
“eh, yes, that one. I was, eh, just doing my job. I swear!” Michael shook him.  
“stay on earth, inform of the events, and make sure things went smooth, right? That’s what i was doing!” “you were called to fight, and you came back to Earth. Why?”  
“becouse i had pendant issues! I had to finish my job here. There where humans involved!”

“HUMANS HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT!!”  
“HUMANS HAVE EVERYTHING!!”

Aziraphale’s answer was so strong, so sudden, Michael let go jut out of surprise*  
Aziraphale himself had to think of what he had say.

“…are they not why we do all of this? Why we exist? The Earth, and the humans. They are His creation. And our duty is to guard them. why…? Why do you, all of you keep thinking they are nothing?”  
“we… i am the one making questions!”  
“… It was a human child the one who aboided the apocalypse. With the help of his human friends. And my rol in it didn’t really make any diference”

His words were so honest, so calm, Michael had no doubth. No more fury. He was just confused.

“but… inefability…” Aziraphale shook his head “just don’t question it. Its innefable”

 

*A very manly squeack, i must add.  
**Michael was pasionated enough to give an answer like that.  
***The wave of power also influyed.


	4. Oficialy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale atends an oficial meeting with his superior

Next time Crowley came to see him, he found the angel fixing an old children’s book. A first edition of the little white horse. He didn’t seem nearly as worried as he had been during the demon’s last visit.

“Angel?” he called his atention “oh, hi, dear” was the answer.  
“what happened?” Aziraphale sighed “Michael didn’t wait for any paperwork before he came to talk to me. He presented himself right away.  
“so what happened!” “…turns out he was not used to civiliced discussions. I talked to him, he calmed down, and left”

There was, really nothing else to say. Truth is, Aziraphale had felt very nervious after the argument, but by now, he had calmed down.

“that is… great!” “yeah” “so, all done” “hm”

Crowley was glad he hadn’t call his superiors. It had been nothing to fuss abouth*. He did feel like celebrating with a lunch at the Ritz, but he didn’t think it was propper to ask… so an akward silence kept dancing between them, untill he finally said.

“so. See you at the ritz next week?” “sure” “at 8:30 pm?” “as usual”

“good, good. Good afternoon” “same!”

And Crowley left, and both aziraphale and him felt akward afterwards. They both felt like something big had been avoided, and they should cheer abouth it, but it somehow just felt complicated…

So, they just let it stay. And kept going with theyr lives: fixing books, threating plants, walking in the park, habing lunch at the rithz…

And three months later, Aziraphale received a visit from his superior.

It was gabriel, of course: the angel responsible for delivering news. It came in a female form, and told him she had come as fast as she could… after recieving a formal request from Michael, who had a question abouth him.

“Michael said two of his angels saw you in quite a deplorable state of health, in the company of a demon” she asqued calmly and firm “Michael said you where so sick you… well, i think you perfomed an indigestion sintom directly on him...?”  
Bugger. No he had no cance to scape: this was an oficial meeting.

“yes, well, you see, i was feeling a bit sick, becouse, i had a lot of dinner, and…”  
“hold on one moment. You had a lot o dinner, and that’s why you felt sick?”  
“not only that, but yes…” “but you don’t need to eat” She requested “why do you eat, to the point of getting sick, when you don’t really need it?”

Aziraphale paled and tried to hide his panic atack “i did not! See, i eat,in order to understand the humans i live with, in this carnal world, and to blend propperly among them. is all for my duty”  
“i see” she said “and the only reason why i… got sick, is becouse, well, Michael was upset for something, and you know…” “…” “well, he was kind of rude, i’m sure he didn’t really mean it, he just isn’t used to how the human body works, the case is, right after eating (only for the sake of my duty, that is) being treated with such roughness, that is what made me a little… dizzy. Of course, i’m sure he exagerated, he is a warrior, is not used to this kind of things…”  
“allright” she continued “so, you don’t think you will be needing to go back to heaven and have a little rest? maybe change of ocupation? You have beenhere for a long while, and we could find a sustitute…”  
“goodness, no!” Gabriel was a bit shocked b this reaction, but she stood still, as this was a profesional meeting. “i mean, sorry. I am very devoted to my job. Its not always easy** but i am very perfeccionist with it… and it took me quite a while to become good at it, i don’t think it would be good idea to leave and let an inexperienced sustitute here, no, really, there is no need… really…”  
“…i see. Very well, then. So you are doing fine” “yes, indeed” “no need for help, nor vacations” “not at all” Gabriel took a moment before adressing the second point of the meeting.

“so what where you doing with that demon?”  
“what?”

 

*Right?  
**I just need to state that was a big fat lie.


	5. Theatrical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale owns Crowley a favour for this one.  
> ...as poor as the atempt was.

Crowley had a message on his ansaphone. He pressed the button. It was Aziraphale’s.

“C-crowley? oh, dear…” he sounded…upset “um…I’m, really sorry, but it will be better if we don’t see each other for a while… well, maybe we won’t have another chance, actually” a silence “see, remember when Michael came to complain? I told him… nevermind. He sent my superior an oficial request, and she started making questions… and… well. They want to investigate my relationship with the enemy.   
...i just suggest you stay away until things calm down, just… not to complicate it more, okay? Well. …is just that” another silence “farewell, my friend” click.

Crowley couldn’t react for a while.

The fact that Aziraphale would probably be gone, and replaced for some other angel who would take another eternity to grow used to and arrange with, that didn’t even cross his mind.  
How Aziraphale had called him to advice him, or at least to say goodbye, had a meaning, but it was not the top impresión either. The fact that he had say “farewell” and “friend” that was shocking. It was the feeling of worry. ‘Aziraphale is leaving’ and ‘he might be at risk’ what occupied his mind the most. But, as he still considered himself a propper demon, his subconsciense did its best to ignore this thoughs.

‘what do i do now?’ was, then, the first clear thing that came to his mind.  
And, as usual, he came up with improvised plan.

 

Aziraphale came out the shop, with an escort behind him. “do your job like usually” he said “i will just watch and make sure there is nothing suspicious” he had said.

And so, becouse fixing old books would not look good in front of a job inspector, he just walked out the shop and thoug about something… like geting into the closest bar, and chatting with the bartender abouth his opinion in the lattest events in politics and society… and pray for that to work**

And so he just walked up the street with a man in white roves and barefeet walking behind him holding a scroll to take notes. He was going to get desincorporated in that bar, wasn’t he?

“you should disguise yourself, you know?” “what do you mean?” had asked the inspector angel. “i’ve hidden my wings, and i am wearing clothes. They can not see my halo, can they?” Aziraphale sighed “trust me. I know this planet. You are not dressed correctly in order to fit in…” the other angel made a disaproving face “are you really going to criticise my looks just becouse propper dresing? This is far more important”  
“ok, i tried” Aziraphale kept walking, just wising for this all to end as soon as possible.

…Wich kind of happened around next corner. Crowley was there.  
Aziraphale paled. “Crowley!” “well hello, dear… wait, is that an angel, behind you?”

Aziraphale and his companion both looked back and forth in confusion, between the demon, and each other. Crowley adressed the newcomer.  
“what are you doing here? I saw him first!” “what bushiness dou you, demon, have with this angel?” answered the other. Crowley pretended shock. “angel?” he looked at Aziraphale “angel…you…? All this time, you were an angel!!? You…” he pretended to pass from shock to anger*** “YOU TRICKED ME!”

Crowley jumped onto Aziraphale’s neck with an inhuman growl, and held him down by the neck. Aziraphale yelped.  
“Crowley, what…?” “sh. Just go with the flow” he wispered while pretending to strugle, and he scratched Aziraphale across the face, leabing a bleeding mark. “defend yourself!” he hurried in a hushed boice. Luckily, Aziraphale reacted in time and fought back, …or tried to. Crowley was now pretending he was incredibly weak under the book-worm angel’s awesoe power. He soon jumped away, and looked back with fury, using his most demonic expresions (this was all very poorly acted, but the other angel had never seen an act, so he was quite impresed) This is when Crowley pretended to see him as a weaker pray, and jumped against him in rage. The other angel let go of the scroll and covered himself with a scream, and crowley fell over him in full display of his powers, performing quite a real atack. This is, untill Aziraphale held him from the neck and pulled away: Crowley pretended to be thrown away with force, and land roughly (still very poorly acted) He then looked back and pointed at Aziraphale with one acusing finger (not as cool as in a movie, since he was quite far now)

“I will be back for you. You will regret this humiliation!” Aziraphale did his best last try at acting and replied “oh… i would like to see you try…”

Then, Crowley laughted like a maniac, untill his bentley drove next to him so he could jump in and drive away (the laughter lasted a bit too long becouse trafic)

Aziraphale was still trying to get over what had just happened and hoped this didn’t actually make things worst, when he turned back and asked the other angel…

“are you ok? Oh, oh, dear…i’m terribly sorry…” The angel on the floor had infected looking scratches and bitemarks, ripped his clothes, burns and other issues. Crowley had truly fall upon him like he was fighting for real, in other to make Aziraphale look stronger. “that!” the angel asked while struggling to get up “was the demon you where questioned for?” “uh… yes. He can be very problematic, so i keep him close in order to… you know, control him. More or les…” “you deal with him daily?” “well, not like this, no. i…pretend to be his victim, and study his tactic, and let hell think they have the upper hand with him… of course, now you blew up my cover…”

“oh!” the other one seemed terribly sorry now “you did adviced me didn’t you? I should have picked better my clothes…”

 

*Aziraphale and him didn’t consider each other friends, at least untill the time when the world was abouth to end, when they realiced, eve if they werent supposed to be, they where nearly as close as you can get. Still, they didn’t usually say any of the short, as it felt…odd.  
**the same way a student prays not to fail an exam they are tottaly gonna fail, and know it.  
***during the whole process, Aziraphale’s face was priceless, and he had to hold laughter.


	6. Dinner at the Ritz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley finally get some momentarly peace to have a nice dinner and a few drinks.

Aziraphale visited Crowley on his flat for the first time since he had bought it. Instead of just calling him, he did go throu the trouble of finding the direction and calling a taxi instead. He found Crowley at home, and when the demon saw him, he gave him a lopsided devil smile. “you seem happy, angel” “oh, dear!” The angel came in as naturally as Crowley steped aside “you have no idea how… how dreadfull worried i was…”  
“you can just repay me by paying at the ritz for a month. Sorry for your cheek” “yeah, sure, but… why?”  
“uh… becouse i did this… um…” “yeah, but why?”

Both stood in silence. Crowley soon came up with an answer, and Aziraphale wondered why he had to ask in the first place. “it was just… for the arrangement, you know? It would be dreadfull to get a new angel in your place who would take another two thousen years to get used to…”

Aziraphale had something in the back of his head wishpering a song with notes of deception at those words, but he ignored it, becouse he was an angel, what was he expecting? “right. Of course” “yeah” “the arragement” “yup”   
…  
“dinner at the Ritz? I pay” “sure!!”

And so they had a wonderfull dinner while chatting and laugthing. Aziraphale mentioned that he might have gone too far by beating that angel, and Crowley excused himself saying that he had to give the best of his performance in order not to disapoint his unfortunate audience. Then, they drove back to Crowley’s home* and drank ‘till theyr chat had become senseless.

“seruly…ser… well. I own you” “one mont at the ritsss” “yeah, butt you shuld ha’v seen his face! Haha he looked at me like i was… i was…” “james bond” “mh… not quite sure…” “indiana jomes” “…dun now who tat is, but yes. i was undiana jons”  
“hehehe i’m quite the actor eh? You can call again if you need a little bust of influensess you little pretty corupt bastard” “don’t you call me… me… tat! You did this” “aand you awe thank… ah, thank…ffull” “…yes. yes i am”

After a few cheers, and a clinging of cups, angel and demon found out they had been drinking ‘till nearly sunrise. So they sobered up, and Crowley drove Aziraphale up to the shop.

They were lucky angels from up there don’t have much knowlege of cars, and couldn’t suspect of the bentley, becouse when Aziraphale entered his shop he was being awaited bu no less than four angels, all dressed in war gargament.

Aziraphale paled for the third time in too short of a time for him, and asked (babled) what were they doing there.

“we have been sent at the request of Gabriel herself, who is, i suppose, your superior, am i right?” “…yes?” “well, she asked Michael, leador of our division, for urgent help for you, as it seems just yesterday you where attacked by a vicious demon who is meaning to cause trouble to you…”

 

*they where going for Aziraphale’s flat, but Crowley todl him he had some wonderfull wine he’d like to show the angel.


	7. Cancell the reserve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale's scheme just keeps being busy lately, so its better that Crowley stays away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when i first posted this chapter, there were some things missing, so i posted it again.it is still short, but more complete.

“Crowley! Crowley you have to hide. No, not just… run away. Fly away, as fast as you can, as far as you can, take the next plane to mali or something and then, hide… i have to hung!” 

“who are you talking to” “er… i was using the phone” 

The other angel stood in silence expecting for him to finish. So he added:

“…to talk with a… bookseller” “Books? Like the bible?” “yes! yes, like the bible” In that moment Aziraphale had an idea that just may help. “I use them to reserch how society developes, here!” he handled the other the first tome his nervous hands reached from the stand behind him. “you start catching up”

The warrior held the book, a rare edition of Alice in wonderland like a giant lobster had been placed on his arms and he had been told that it was a newborn baby he had to babysit. Aziraphale walked away hoping that this would keep at least one of them distracted. They insisted not to let him alone at any moment!

As fast as he crossed the door, he nearly crashed with one of the angels, who was standing right nose to nose with him. imptient, but firm.

“where is the demon that haunts you?” Aziraphale lied* “I don’t know”  
“Very well, then. We will start the search. When was last time you saw it?”  
“uh… i think he was nearby, yeah, right around the corner of the street…”

Aziraphale was concerned that he was telling the truth. What if this… idiots actually found Crowley? he owned him dinner! (and he ignored the insisting feeling of worry in scratching at the back of his head)

“but you can not go out like this… didn’t my last visit tell you what happened when i told him to dress propperly?” The warior in front of him glared. He was about to complain, when another one right behind him spoke up.

“that’s true! We where sent an urgent warning, with the events of the research mission…”** “Nonsense!” The one in front of Aziraphale said “We are warriors. We need our equipament, and we don’t need to hide, as we can fight!” “…but if you don’t disguise, the pray may see you from afar and manage to scape” said Aziraphale.

And this was a smart move. See, Now he had an excuse to keep them inside the shop, and distracted ‘till he could have dressed them with clothes so estrambotic maybe most of humans would look away, but Crowley could notice from afar something was odd.

“So, Aziraphale, field agent. What do you sugest we do?”

In that moment, Azirapale’s phone started ringing, and before he could react (it took him a while) crowley’s voice came form the ansaphone*** Aziraphale facepalmed. He was lucky the angels didn’t understand the gesture.

“Hello, Mr. Fell, this is Mr. C, calling you for your reserve at the Ritz…”

Aziraphale secretly cheered for Crowley’s devilish hability to improvise lies. He excused himself and walked again to the other room in order to pick the phone.

“Yes! uh, thank a lot for the call, but i need to get the reserve cancelled. See, i’m dreadfully sorry, but i got four visitants right now, we are in quite a dangerous bushiness, and its better to… eh, stay away. Thanks a lot. Have a lovely life, bye!”

When he came back, that one angel from the door was still at the door, and holding a grumpy face. “so” He urged “your advice?” “uh? uh… ah! Yes, yes. I sugest we… uh, go shopping!” “shopping” “yes, Shopping. In orther to blend in, you’ll need clothes. In orther to get those, you have to pay for those. That is, to go shopping”

The warrior in front of him glared daggers at him, but did not argue. “we are going shopping, then” They all were leaving when he noticed someone missing. “Sadrio! Where are you?” The named angel took a few moments to appear from behing the door to the other room. “What are you doing? We are in hostile territory, and we are leaving”  
“I’m sorry, i was just… its… interesting this…” “Come on!!” 

Sadrio idn’t need to be shouted at twice, and he hurried out…carrying Alice in wonderland with him.

Meanwhile, Crowley tried to think, and think fast. He was safe in his apartment, right? Aziraphale wouldn’t give that away… or would he? He had said he should fly to another country, so maybe he couldn’t help but reveal his place… or maybe he was taking the angels for a demon hunting party? Hunting other demons, like hastur... well, that would be convinient woudn’t… oh!

Crowley’s mind raced. He didn’t know what was Aziraphale’s plan, actually, he probably didn’t have a plan at all, and was going throu the motion. Crowley worked otherwise: he improvised plans, wich is similar, but not exactly the same. If his last trick with the supervising angel had worked out, this should as well, shouldn’t it?****

He was sure Hastur was still after him, and no holly water nor phone would do the trick this time, but maybe by putting his problem and Aziraphale’s problem toghether, they could solve each other…(in a very nasty fight, but yet again, he was trying to look at the bright side) He just had to find Hastur, lead him into the angels, and get out of there without being seen by them. Should he warn Aziraphale? Well, yes, that would be a good idea, but… how?

 

*he didn’t considered it lying, but relative truth: He didn’t know where Crowley may be at this excat moment. He may be at his flat, he might be at the park…  
**Aziraphale’s latest visit had made sure to get across the danger of walking on the human world without a propper disguise.  
***Yes, he got one if just so that Crowley would shut up abouth it.  
****The las time it had worked, but it had also become worst in time. Crowley tried to look at the positive side.


	8. Prepare for the fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale has problems, so Crowley found himself some of his own to keep him company, so to say...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter was not complete when i first posted it. I am sorry for that. you can go back to make sure you read all of it (is not very long anyways) or you can just go on. there's not much diference any way.  
> hope you like it all in all.

Crowley had to go down there, you know, hell, in orther to get quick information.  
He hated hell. Hell was… well, hell. One could not be paranoid enough to be healthy in hell. Before he could make up an excuse for abandoning his post on earth, he got wipped at first sight by the guardian of the door. It was his way of saying “wellcome to hell. I’m sure you have a perfectly bad reason to be here” He didn’t bother with it and checked in saying he needed some information from the archives in orther to develop one of his plans as a fiel agent.

He did go to the archives (and got wiped again, in anticipation for posible bad behaibour at the library) and ignored it again: he asked for Hastur.

“you know, he has something personal against me (no idea why, really…) and i kind of need his colaboration in one of the plans, so i have to contact him…”

The lower master of the archives who was working at that moment didn’t seem amused, and a little suspicious. In the end, he just handed over a copy of Hastur’s last asignment, with a casual wiping, of course. Just in case. Crowley thanked it’s highness with a forked toung mock and left the place with another two marks on his back. He trembled with the memory of that filling on his wings, and thanked the fact that he had hidden them before coming throu the door.

Before he finded Hastur, however, he thoug a way of reaching the angel.

Aziraphale was feeling both humilliated and desperated at a second hand clothes shop.  
They had had an argument for wether they should dress the disguising clothes over thyer battle stuff or they should dissmiss that entirely. They had decided to keep it, and just cover it with anything and while Aziraphale was thankfull becouse it would take longer to find propper clothes, he was starting to feel maybe a punishment would be beter. He had to wait in a corner while the others came to him again and again to be adviced abouth horrible clothes that didn’t actually fit…*

Then, suddenly, one of the ladys from the shop came up to him with a wireless phone. Aziraphale covered his surprised face, as the others didn’t really know how phones are supposed to work, and he could get away with this…

“hallo, Mr. Fell speaking. Who may…?” “Mr Fell! This is the Ritz again” it was Crowley’s voize “We are so sorry your apointment had to be cancelled, and we are sending a… retribution, that we hope will help…” “uh… what?” a sight at the other side of the line “a little something so that the hunting party will result successfull please, be alert for its arrival, and please be carefull not to get burnt” Crowley hung the phone, and Aziraphale suddenly felt a rush of… paranoia.

Aziraphale suddenly rushed the warrior angels to finish getting dressed. When they seemed suspicious he told them they had been taking too long, and if the shop came to closing hours it would be suspicious “we have to follow earth’s cultural ways, you know? …we don’t want to call atention… or, or maybe they could fall on us… anytime, really…” “they who?” “well, the enemy of course..” The angel who seemed to be the leader of the team kept second guessing “i believe we were looking for just one demon”

“well of course there is only one demon the one we are here for, the one i usually deal with, here in london… but, of course, there is… eh, always the posiblity that we call atention, and he may summon help, and they would be more than one, see?”

Before he could be answered Aziraphale discracted the atntion by reprimending Sadrio, who was hurrying up to finish the book before keeping with the mission. Aziraphale suddenly regreted gibing him the book. The mission could be suddenly dangerous, and he himself knew best than anyone how distracting a book can be…

“Sadrio, please. I did not give you this book in order to get you distracted** If you want to read, you can come back to my bookshop after the mission is complete. But this is important!” He had suddenly sounded quite out of character, like he had always taking the mission seriously. The other angels looked at him with respect, (and Sadrio, in a thankfull and happy way) and they all walked out into the street, as solemny as one can, dressing like a drunk clown.

Aziraphale decided that “we should go somewhere safe to er… not hurt any humans in case we encounter the demon” “but we are supposed to find the demon” one said. Aziraphale hushed him the best he could and hurried them to a little stinky peace of beack under a bridge at the end of the city. He was wondering if he should find a place to pass the night or purchase a camping tent, or something, when he heared a familiar sound:

The screech of a racing car and queen's don't stop me now being played loudly.

 

*that is, except for one of them, who had put on a big dress and was sitting in a corner reading Alice in wonderland  
**another big, fat lie


	9. Tragedy or triumph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has to face Hastur. i can not say if the outcome is positive or negative...

Crowley had to concentrate all of his energy on Aziraphale’s familiar halo while driving the bentley around, being chased by a very pissed hastur* driving his own car-looking shadow-monster. He was quite tired and desperated when he finally recogniced the angel’s aura like a faint smell not far by, in his third row around the city.

He was so exausted and desperated, Hastur on his back wheels, he just drove at full speed right into the river. 

The five angels standing there in awfull clothes watched the vintage car fly by and crash deep into the water, breaking it’s glass, it’s contents soon burried, the sound of the music fading… and closely chased down by another, incondundible demonic powered behicle.  
This one crashed the first one, sending it deeper into the river, but still staid out enough for the distracted driver to get out. And he was not hiding his demonic freatures, all complete with dark aura, maggots runing around his clothes, and an stereo voice.

“YOU ARE NOT GETTING AWAY THIS TIME! I WILL GET YOU YOU LITTLE…”

“its him! get him! don’t let him cause more…!” And before Hastur knew, he had four warrior angels on him. The scene was not glorious, nor nice to watch in any ways. The monster tried to fight back chaoticaly, claws and evil force and wings out, a freaked face and the worst furious and evil words coming out of his mouth. The angels were dressing clothes that difficulted theyr movements, but they where four, and they where ready for war. Hastur was a duke of hell, but he was only ready to hunt down one slimy lower demon.

It looked more like a violent and gross struggle between a pack of big, trained dogs and a rabid wolf than an actual battle between heaven and hell.

After Hastur had tried to fly away, and got it’s wing cut by a single hit of a heavenly sword, the last thing he did in despair was look to the river, and the place where Crowley had desapeared, in confusion…

And there, standing on top of his sunk car, covered by the water, a tiny snake looked back at him with yellow eyes.

It clicked, and Hastur extended one acusing finger, being ignored, but still claiming:

“TRAITOR! YOU BASTARD, YOU TRAI…”

Aziraphale was the one who silenced him with a punch to the mouth, while the others managed to reduce him, and one with a hawaian t-shirt delivered the fatal blow. Hastur was no more.

Aziraphale looked around, a somehow uneasy silence floating in the air. The angels had seen better days, damaged wings, injuries of diferent degrees and covered in the remains of the awfull clothes all in all they would live. “that was a strong creature” the leader was holding his arm, soaked deep infected wounds and turned in an extrange position.  
“what is it he was saying?” “oh… eh, you will find this creatures say all types of sensless rambling… mesing with the planet, you know”  
“it seems like he was causing quite a lot of trouble… i don’t think that poor human will be fine…” Sadrio was looking at the place where the bentley shunk. Aziraphale panicked and kept going with the excuses “oh, who knows this humans… we tend to subestimate them, he could have swim all the way to the other side…”  
“what? Are you sure?” “er, i suggest we just leave before we call atention with all that happened and fix out wounds… yes…”

And so, they left, as fast as theyr limping and dragging of wounded wings would allow.  
Crowley was left alone, in the cold river, with his wreked car.

It took a lot of effort to miracle the thing out of the damn river, fix it up, and get it back to his place. Crowley just wanted to turn into a miserable reptile anc crawl as tight as posible into the bed. He had a lot of thoughs going throu his mind: he was a demon, so everything bad was actually good. But he had betraid a demon. That was good for the other side, and bad for his, or was it double bad and he was just a very temible creature? Hedidn’t really feel like that… it was not so different from when he killed ligur, right? He hadn’t given ligur up to the enmy, but then again, ligur was after him for failing his mission…

He was just confused and exousted, and he crawled uder the pillow and slept in a ball of snake skin.

 

*He had used a phone prank regarding holy water in order to call his atention. He put the radio one becouse he just needed the motivation. Hastur wouldn’t dare come throu it ever again.


	10. waky waky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here begins le drama

He was woken up by the sound of his door bursting out of its place and falling to the floor. Three sets of feet walking hurriedly into his flat, accompanied by the shouting voices of not two, but three dukes of hell, all of them very pissed, who had decided to come collect him without warning this time.  
“be carefull” he heared one of them say “there may be more traps with holly water” that was, over the shouts of another one, that was calling him traitor, bastard, and names of the short, in phrases such as “he won’t get away this time… hell’s got a lot waiting for him…YOU HEAR, LITTLE SHIT?”  
Crowley had tighted his rings wthout meaning it, and as fast as he could manage to react, and as carefull not to call attention, he made honor to his first name and crawled behind the floor, behind the nightstand, and up the window, wich he had to struggle to open, (and that was tarrying) but he did manage to get out, even thoug he made some noises…  
Lucky for him, the three dukes where making a lot of noise themselves, crashing his place, destroying his plants and emptying everywere they thoug he could be hiding, and didn’t hear him.  
He didn’t even take the car: he crawled away to an alley where he was sure they hadn’t follow and wouldn’t see, and flew away to the place he could think of, where he would feel safe.  
Aziraphale’s bookshop.  
He was afraid to go in there: If the other angels were still there, they would see him… or maybe that was a good thing: he could try to make them chase him into his flat, and if they couldn’t kill three dukes of hell, maybe they all would be distracted, or, at least, the number of problems would decrease…  
But of course, this was not easy. Once he breathed deeply, and reunited the courage to walk in, and once he smelled the air, he knew. He knew something was terribly wrong.  
The air usually smelled of mold and dust, and humidity. And if you got used to that, you could also recognize the smell of paper and the person (angel) who lived in it. Crowley could tell if Aziraphale had been baking or making tea or restoring books by the smell of ink and glue too.  
But not today. Today all the usual smells where faintly covered by a new one, wich he knew well, and was so strange here it just made the muscles around his stomach, up his back and all around his unmaterial wings cringe.  
It was the smell of blood. And a little bit of sulfur, and maybe a tone of metal.  
He also couldn’t help but notice the shattered glass, books dropped and pages ripped all over the floor. He didn’t want to aknolege, he did not! But he did believe there were also some feathers lying around…   
And it all came from somewhere in the back. …yes, the door to the back of the shop, where Aziraphale usually kept his most preciated books and worked sometimes… from the other side of that door, came the smell in waves.  
And he did not want to go there, and open the door, and find out what was behind… but he had to.  
Fuck, shit. Damn, bullocs… and for someone’s sake, he had to.


	11. The thrid lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley walks into the back room of the bookshop
> 
> ...wich smells fishy

He had tried to mentalice for what he would find there, but he was still in kind of shock for his arival to the shop. So, larger was his shock when he entered there.  
The contents of the room had been trashed and burned, and the walls and ceiling had been added chains. And held by them, where the angels. All five of them. The four warriors, and his, the librarian. Thou, he could not recognice him at first sight. Not in that moment, with all the blood and the ripped clothes, and the broken wings… oh, g… shit. The broken wings. The feathes all over the place… one of the angels, the one who seemed stronger (probably the one with the higher rank, leader of the group) was hunging from the ceiling but his feet, like a recently hunted bird ready for being cleaned of its feathers. His wings where torn in diferent angels, and… oh, g… Manchester. Seemed like they had been playing bullseye with him. Never discorporating him, of course, so the could keep going on.  
His shock was interrupted by a non-broken voice, voice full with energy, of someone who wasn’t suffering with this. A demon, who came to his encounter.  
“what are you doing here? Who are you?” Crowley was in such state, he couldn’t answer. When he noticed the other demon was getting impatient and maybe suspicious, he moved his lips nerviously, like a fish.  
“are you feeling fine, kid?” asked the guardian of the hostages, with a peculiar, funny tone, like that of a teacher who suspects his student didn’t make the homework, and Crowley started noticing of how deep into danger he was right now. He had to say something. Something convincing. Right now. And so he started babbling.  
“I was…hm, well you see… “ he coffed noisily, pretending something was truly stuck in his throat, and that he was feeling casual about all this… BLODDY thing. “My name is Crowley”  
The guardian’s face enlighted, in a scary way. (he was a demon of higher rank than Crowley)  
“so! You are the field agent, the one who should have done this, but instead betraid Duke Hastur AND Duke Ligur, uh?” Shit shit shit. “I think you should go back home…there’s visit waiting for your there”  
Crowley looked at the other’s face with determination, pretending to be offended.  
“I know you idiot, I was there talking to them” and the guardian made an odd face.  
“you…really?” “yeah, …and I did not betray anyone! Is not my fault, that Duke Hastur was stupid, and jumped head first into the hands of this idiots without listening to the field expert. And neither was whatever happened to Ligur! I had cleared that one out after the whole apocalypse fiasco”*  
“…uh. Allright then. What are you doing here?” he was asked. And he made up a fast excuse.  
“they sent me here” he said “…to identify the one angel who wasn’t one of the warriors sent by heaven. The field agent I’ve been… working with. To diference between him and the others, that is” he said, and he did wthout thinking at all. It sounded nearly casual.  
The guardian steped aside, and let him throu. “well then. Wich one is it?”  
And Crowley walked in like a sleepwalker, and passed by each angel looking at them…  
One was looking down, quite broken, other looked away, nowere in particular… the third seemed furious. He silently glared at Crowley with firm, brown eyes…  
And then there was Aziraphale. He seemed to be getting throu the whole thing as calmly as he could, pasive, dócile, loke not to call attention to make it worst.  
Maybe Crowley wanted to make sure it was him, but for some reson he placed his hand in aziraphale’s chin, and the side of his face, lifting it to look at him in the eyes.  
And it was him. He had a few brushies swolen already including a broken lip, his hair made a mess, and expresionless, sad, kind of questioning, tired grey-bluish eyes. Afraid, too.  
Crowley looked at those so well-known eyes without showing an expression (he wouldn’t know what expression to show, anyways) and after a silence spoke, calmly.  
“this one. It’s the field agent. Its this one” he let go of aziraphale’s face, wich turned back down, looking at the floor with a now lost gaze, and, kind of slowly, walked away.

“allright” said the other “he seemed to like books, you know? You worked with him, right?” Crowley was walking past the door, and towards the exit. “maybe we could play with his books… would you like to play with books, mister angel? Jeje… hey!” Crowley stoped on his track, and looked back. “would you like to play with him a little bit? I don’t know what will be the plans they have for him, but if you feel like it, I can let you have your way with him for a minute…” Crowle thoug for a beat, and then said “no. …I’ve got stuff to do”

And he left.

*…Aand tere’s another lie.


	12. the third traicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (...or is it the fourth?)

Crowley walked throu the street with his mind made a mess.

He just didn’t like it. That angel was the only thing that had standed with him throu everything, literaly, from the beggining of time. Throu edversity and war, and cosyness lately, and even the end of the world, wich they helped (kind of?) to abort together…  
He liked the bastard. He was… too much of a nice guy, he disliked him at the same time. His inapopiate busts of goodness whenever he just had to pay with real money or fix some unperfection somewhere, his awfull taste in dressing, his constant complains whenever he was driving… but he liked his company. Somehow, and he hated, downright hated what was going to happen to him, what had happened already… and g-someone fuck-manchester, watever that was happening to him at this same moment after he walked out the shop he downright hated it so bad.

But what could he do? What? He couldnt disobey so fragantly, for directly… or even if he could, he was not strong enough, he had nothing to fight, nothing to use, nowere to run afterwards…

He stoped in his tracks and gaped, his breath rushed. He had been ‘walking’ quite fast, without noticing. His breath (he had no words right now) was trembling.

Screw it all! Screw the world, wich wasnt suppose to keep rolling at this point anyways, and heaven, which had such poor management for the world they where supposed to care for, and hell, wich he hadnt ever cared for…

He flew to the closest (and cheapest) shop around, and got a water spry like the one he used for his plants, and a pair of gloves for good measure. He then flew to the closest church, and found a dumb kid. He made sure it was quite dumb, but still a bit tall. He may have been using his powers to make sure no one was casually looking his way when he ofered him money: five pounds, if you go into the church, and fill this spry with it, and other ten, if you bring it back to me. “But only if you go in and back fast ok?”** He managed it all in less than ten minutes, but still worried over the time. Would the others come for him to the bookshop, or warn the guardian, or…?

He walked in nearly runing, and he did not hesitate, rising his hand bottle in one hand with a swift and decisive motion. The other demon had hear him coming, and came to his encounter and started asking “wha…” when he was spryed directly in the face.

The picture wasnt pretty, his face burning and melting while he kept screaming, his hands to his head, moving around in the little room with the angels chained around…

Crowley spryed him again and again for good measure, making sure to hold the bottle quite far from his own figure, but firmly. Soon, the other demon bursted into insects, (were those water mosquitos?) many of them still burning or dying for some reason. Crowley adjusted the spry, from the slim, strong string of water that could hurt in the skin if shoot too closely, to a vaporicing shot, and shot again and again to the cloud of trapped insects, wich, if did not burn, fell to the floor agonizing. He then throwed the bottle away, next to the gloves, like a germofove after touching shit, and run to unchain Aziraphale.

“…sorry, sorry, i’m terrible sorry…” he barely noticed he was saying it.  
“fly away. Go back to heaven, as fast as you can, hurry up!” Aziraphale was not reacting. He was still on his knees, looking at him with shocked worry.  
“bu-but…i…” “quick, angel!” the demon said, pulling him up. He knew he would take some time to react, and then he would want to free the others as well, so he stated saving time by setting the others free as well. Aziraphale walked out with the one who had liked his book, and started searching around for a piece of chalk.

He had all the drawing finnished when he turned back to Crowley.

“what abouth you? Were will you go? What will you…?” Crowley thoug for a moment and answered “i will run away and hide. They don’t know this world. I do. I could be a snake, anywhere in the desert, or the jungle, or in a tank, nywhere…”

“oh, no you wont!” the leader of the angels said, and struk him down.

*Imitation of leather. They werent there before, but they where what he was looking for, and he tended to find what he was looking for  
**”And if they ask you, its for your granny’s favourite plant, wich is sick”


	13. afterwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what happened after the... whole thing

Crowley’s head ached and emited a high pitched humming sound.   
Well, it was only him. The angel he had un-hunged from the ceiling had jumped on him and hit him with the handle of its sword* the demon lied on his knees, one hand to the head, the other supporting him, and he was preparing the next blow, the definitive one, to the neck, when the field agent pushed him away with all his streinght. All or it. Arms, full body and wings. Right away. The leader of the goup looked up at him in shock. He hadnt expected to see it was an angel what had pushed him. He didnt understand… but he didn’t have to. Neither did the others. They had been throu too much already. They sourranded both the demon and the angel with what wa left of the swords, or without them.

“what is the meaning of this? I comand you to respond right away!” “there is no time. They will come back again and we will have no second chance to s…”  
“don’t you dare!! Even if we are to die for this, i demand to know why. Why did you push me away from this demon?” “he… he had saved us! He is the one who let us out. We own him…” “we own him nothing. It is a demon. A fiend. The enemy. Specially after what we have been throu, you should know better than this! allways”

Another angel spoke this time. Sadrio. He had been momentarily confused by the demon helping them. “he was probably going to sell us over to some other demon, or something…” Aziraphale shouted. “he was not! He wouldn’t do that! …and we really need to just get out…” “what did you mean by that? explain yourself!” Aziraphale did not speak again. The lider tried to make him speak again, but he just took a determination.

“in order to smite this demon, now, you will have to kill me first”

The angels changed the weight fo theyr feet to one another, confused.

“…he has betraid us” said one “he is just insane” the other asked “what do we do…?” and he had asked the leader, who took his sweet time. He wanted to rip the demon apart, all the demons, all of them, but he would have to fight the angel, and he wanted to do too, but in this situation… he could not.  
“this is too big for ourselves” he finally stated “we’re taking them”   
And at first no one moved, so he added “as hostages”

And so they did. Aziraphale helped the demon up, who was still hurting and confused, and didn’t let go all they way.

They were scorted into the light, and there was a preasure, and a sensation similar to the wind when falling, but the other way arround, and Crowley weld so strong onto Aziraphale, but still feeling so weak… good thing Aziraphale was holding him with all of his strainght.

An then they where there. at the doors of heaven, and the energy was such Crowley felt himself boil from withing… but his angel shielded him, with both his wings and his halo. All of his power. He shielded him the best he could, and it was at least enough to slow the process so he could help Crowley walk.

And in they went, to the shock of the gate guardian, who at first refused to let them in, but all in all, she didn’t make many questions** And they were made to walk a while. Crowley didn’t see where, he couldn’t believe he was actually back up here, he didn’t feel like it. He didn’t think of it actually: he was too hell-dam week for any bullshit, and this was a whole lot of bullshit. 

He didn’t notice the music stopping abruptly, nor the many angels and some other curious spirits who gathered arround chatting or in extranged silence. He did notice that, the shielding, for a moment was not effective anymore, and the heat, and the humming and the pain it all became unbearable as it came closer so fast… and then nothing.

He checked, confused. He was not dead. He looked up, and he could not elieve what was in front of him.  
Who was in front of him. 

 

*He had nearly stabbed him right away from behind, but his sword had been managed by the demons who had reduced him, and he didn’t really know how good would be the result now. Plus, he had a trainig, and this was the apropiate way to blow someone on the head when you jump on them, and the body has memory and its hard to forget…all that stuff.  
**yes, she is a woman. Its a long story…


	14. a new arrangement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is given a very uncomon, jet important choice

Michael put one knee on the floor, Aziraphale kneeled too. God came to them and asked Michael what had happened.  
“this angel has betraid us” he said “he has been confraternicing with demons all this time!”  
“that is not true” Aziraphale’ s voice was trembling “I only did with one demon, and it was for heaven’s sake, and I never meant to betray heaven…!”  
Michael attempted to interrupt and a discussion was starting when God itself silenced them. It put its hand above Aziraphale’s head, and Crowley feared for him.  
“Tell me, my son”  
“My lord. I was put on earth to do one chore, and I give you my word, that I did my best at it, and I stay loyal to you. It is truth I befriended this one demon, but that is only because, after such long time alone in each other’s company, we grew used to each other, and his help was usefull to our side, as he happens to be… decent, in his own ways. I swear, I never had any intention of betraying…” “Oh, shut up in the name of heaven…” Michael interrupted again, but it was hushed with just one silent look from its father.  
Then, its hands taken from Aziraphale’s head, God came towards Crowley.  
As terrified as he was, the serpent did the most razonable thing that came to his mind in such situation* and he kneeled and bowed his head to the deity.  
God put its hand over his head, and Crowley felt nothing, but he knew his mind was being read like a book. Then, he was questioned.

“why did you save my angels?” “…because I love one of them” it was true, he could not lie. He was surprised with how easily it was all coming out, thou how terrified he was “and why did you want to avoid the apocalypse?” “becouse I like the earth” his voice sounded hesitant, unsure “ …and the humans. I like them a lot, wouldn’t like to exist in a world without them”  
“…so, why did you deceive me in the first place?”  
Crowley cringed at this. That question. Of course it had to be asked. Answering it was terrifying on its own.  
“i… I never meant to. Really, I was just… following the wrong one. I really…”  
‘…sauntered vaguely downwards’ was on his mind. Did God see that? He prefered not to think of it too much and shut up, as he was rambling under the presence of a diety while it stared down onto his brain.  
“I see. Tell me: would you like to be free from hell, and serve me once again?”  
Crowley considered this words, but for much that he did, he could only get one, imposible meaning. Was he being offered… a second chance? Was this a trap? He had to be honest**  
“…Yes. I do”  
God said “Very well. You shall prove it” and raised its hand from Crowley’s head, to let it come back again… filled with holly water. It splashed in the back of his head and soaked his forehead and neck, and dripped down his face and shoulders and down his back and dipped on the floor a bit too.  
Aziraphale cried in anguish. Crowley felt the burn, but it didn’t burn the way he expected:  
It burnt everything on its way to his very rotten soul, and burned all the rotten on it, and refilled every gone part of him with light. It was painfull, but satisfying, kind of like the cry of a newborn: he was being reborn. He felt again like once, six thousand years ago, made with light and filled with love. He had had love of his own there, and that was the best of him. That wasn’t touched, but surrounded by someone else’s: the love of a father; and something unexpected: The feeling of forgiveness, wich came like a release to a preasure he hadn’t know was there.  
with the bautism of holy (healing) water, came a new name, an angel name***  
“Rise, Gaadre-kel. Angel of mishchief. And rise with a new mission:”   
Gadrekel, (alias Crowley) looked up with honey eyes, filled with confusion.  
“you will conquer hell for me. Make of it what it should be, and be its lord under my command. Do you understand your task?”  
Crowley could have make many questions, but he didn’t find any words. So he just noded.  
“very well. Then, we both have issues to attend, and I believe your mate awaits you”  
He looked back, at Aziraphle’s astonished eyes, his cheeks still wet with tears. When he looked forward again, God was already leaving.  
He found himself suddenly surrounded by his new equals**** some incredulous, some happy, others just too shocked. And before anything more happened, he walked up to Aziraphale, and took his hands in his.  
The other was still shocked. He looked at his eyes: strange new eyes, honey colored eyes like those of an angel**** then at his hands, wich where more familiar, and back at his eyes. New odd eyes in an old face. He framed this face with one hand, trying to understand.  
Crowley leaned into the touch, and closed his eyes, looking for one second his usual self. Then he took this hand, and flew away with it. They landed in the garden. Where they met. He hadn’t seen this place ever since. Its beauty was astonishing. They walked throu it like in a dream, barefoot, Crowley extended his hands and touched some baines, Aziraphale, behind him heared his laughter. Reaching a little, confy space they stoped, and Crowley looked at Aziraphale. There was confidence and happiness on his eyes.   
Slowly, calmly, Crowley embraced him, and he made him rest on the grass. He wanted to try something: he carassed aziraphale’s bruishes, and concentrated, and he was shocked for how easily they receded, how fast they healed. He smiled. He never relly lost his powers, but he was much more powerfull now, and he had full access to a pure, inagotable source. One by one, carefully, curiously, he carrassed all and every one of the wounds of the angel, and they all receded, pain replaced by confort, and warmth, and gentle, pleasurable carrases, (kind of like scrathcing right in the propper spot, after a long while of awaiting) he kept going for as long as he pleased, becouse they had all the time in the world. (time in this plane worked diferent) and when he had been searching for a while, and couldn’t find anymore wounds, he went for the wings.   
And this was more tricky. Aziraphale stilled, but Crowley was slow and carefull, like an old, obsesive man placing aticks in a bottle to build a ship inside. He took his time to find each aching spot, and blow between the feathers if he needed it, and nearly not carass with such care… even with his wings still hurt, Aziraphale did lay down, and closed his eyes, and rested, enjoying the attencion. And when Crowley had nothing else to heal, he just started prinning him.   
Aziraphale had had his wings very unatended, and they had been throu a lot. So they deserved all the care they could get: Crowley did it casually, like a pasttime, like an old man cares for his plants... and then Azirapahle carassed his face. Making understand and understanding that he was not someone else: it was the same, but forgiven, free, given a new purpose, and more loved.  
Finally the fear and relief, and the shock and happiness washed over Aziraphale, who laughted, and kissed Crowley. And he kissed back, and they embraced, and made love in the garden of Eden****** 

…

Afterwards, both laid in the soft long grass, just smiling, contemplating and carassing each other´s hands, before Crowley got up and jumped into the earth. He had a new purpose, and a difficult one.  
“first thing I’ll do” he was thinking “is fix that damned radio thing”

 

*he had always been quite a razonable creature, and a good survivor.  
**being punished in heaven was still better than being punished in hell; serving heaven was, too, at the very least better than serving hell, and the worst that could happen, had happened already.  
*** the one he had left behind long ago, with a sub-denomination, and a new title.  
****the angels. The ones who had been his brothers once, long ago…  
*****like those of a human but with more light  
******They where on a metaphisical plane, and where not fisical beings, so tecnicly they had no bodies. Still, heaven is not fisic plane. It is an ethereal plane; but it still has a garden, and it is like no garden on earth. Aziraphale and Crowley, like many spirits, kept the basic idea of theyr fisic themselves on mind… this was not so complicated. They did the ethereal equivalent of a kiss, and then the ethereal equivalent of a deeper kiss, and then the rest just happened. When you are not fisic, things happen without thinking, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a little rushed. I know. I had written this chapter long before the others, and it kind of sounded different...  
> i fixed it up, and launched it. i had also calculated wrong. i thoug it would take more chapters, at least a prologue... but such prologue was so short i just let it here. hope you like it!
> 
> PS: yest, this could have a continuation, but i don't really know how to write that one. any ideas?


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